


Knowing You're Okay

by afteriwake



Series: Simple As It Should Be [22]
Category: CSI: NY
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 12:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days it was a good thing to have the police scanner on when he was at home. Today was not one of those days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing You're Okay

He had known it was a mistake to get a police scanner for his apartment. There had been one in his home, when he was growing up, so the sounds were almost a comfort. He remembered his father sitting by it, listening to it, making sure his city was safe. What he'd pushed away were the memories of his mom listening to it when his dad was at work, waiting to hear something, good news or bad. She'd spend hours by it, just worrying.

Still, he'd gotten one when he got his gold shield. Most of the time it was on a low murmur, almost like white noise. When he and Lindsay had gotten serious, though, he started to turn it up when he was off and she was at work. Not because he wanted to know where she was; he trusted her implicitly, and why would she ever lie about something like that, he reasoned. No, he listened to make sure she was okay. He never doubted she could take care of herself in the field, and she never really worked a scene alone, but... 

Now he really understood why his mother had hovered over the scanner. He didn't like that feeling much. And so he'd shut it off until the silence in his apartment would start to become deafening, and on it would go again.

It kept up until he heard a call, shots fired at a crime scene, one that he knew was connected to a case Mac and Lindsay were working on. But there wasn't anything he could _do_ except sit and listen; he'd have no reason to be there, and there wouldn't be any way he could help, so all he _could_ do was simply sit and listen and wait.

And when he was sure she was okay, he got his jacket and went to Lindsay's apartment. As he left, he thought to himself that the scanner was going to be out of his apartment by the next morning. His sanity depended on it.

\---

She hurt. The suspect with the gun had cocked the damn thing at her, fired off a shot that missed and then knocked her down; she ended up going down a flight of stairs. She was bruised, and she was angry. Her head hurt, her shoulder hurt, her back hurt...and then the guy had gotten away, on top of everything. Hence the anger.

At least he'd tossed his gun. Mac said they'd check the striations from a bullet from that gun, see if they matched. If it did they had their murder weapon and a very likely suspect. But she wasn't going to see any of that, not today at least.

The minute they'd gotten back to the labs he'd told her to go home, something she was more than glad to do. She'd go soak in a tub, call Flack and see if he wanted to come over, and then...well, she didn't want to plan that far in advance. Hell, she might put a few hours between the bath and the call.

She trudged up to her apartment and stopped short. He was there, waiting. And dozing off a bit, by the look of it...Flack's head was bowed forward and his eyes were shut. If he was sleeping, she didn't want to startle him.

She took a few steps closer. His head snapped up. So much for him being asleep. "I take it you heard," she said quietly.

"On the scanner."

She nodded; she forgot he had a scanner at his apartment. "Well, as you can see, I'm okay."

He nodded. "Wanted to make sure for myself." He looked straight at her, and she thought for just a moment that he was scared. Or had been scared, at least.

She walked over to him and sat down next to him, putting her hands on her knees when she was settled. She looked straight at them. "He shot at me."

He put his arm around her shoulders, pulled her close. "But he missed."

"He could have hit me! There was nothing Mac could have done, he was on the other side of the room!" Her voice raised, but she was scared and angry and she was on the verge of tears. "I..I could have..."

He didn't say anything, not as he heard her begin to cry, not as he felt tears slip from her face onto his shirt. After the explosion, he’d been unconscious; he hadn't felt anything, really...no pain, no fear. She was feeling it all and there wasn't anything he was going to be able to say to make her feel better.

She pulled away a bit and lifted her head, looked at him closely. When she leaned in and kissed him, there was a sense of desperation there, that she needed to do this in order to feel something that was missing right now. He returned the kiss, easily and with what he hoped she needed.

After a minute, she pulled back again. "We should go in now," she said quietly.

"Why?" he asked, partly curious and partly amused.

"Because if we don't..." She shrugged. "I don't really want an audience."

He nodded, got up and helped her up, and then waited for her to unlock her apartment. Once the door was open, they stepped in. It was cool and dark, even though it was still the afternoon. It was quiet, too, but the sense of quiet was calm and peaceful, not an oppressive weight.

She stopped on her way into the kitchen and he went up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and stood there, waiting. He could feel her relax, feel the tension drain out of her. When she brought her hands up to hold his arms, he knew things would be all right. She felt safe again, and that was what was important right now.

"How do you know what I need?" she asked. He could hear a bit of amusement in her voice.

"Didn't you know I was psychic?" he deadpanned, and when he heard her laugh he smiled as well. She turned in his arms and put her arms around his neck.

"You have any place you need to be right now?"

"No, I'm just fine with staying here."

"Good." She leaned her head on his chest. "Good."


End file.
